


Of The Wild

by TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Broken Sam, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationship, M/M, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 16:05:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11878005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen/pseuds/TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen
Summary: Sam and Dean are wolves.





	Of The Wild

A sharp cold wind rustled the needles in the pine trees, the sound growing and swelling till it echoed like waves crashing against a shore. The creaking groan of a forest wailing through the night, an unceasing noise that surged and dimmed but never died.

Though the wind was biting cold as it gusted across the black nose of the wolf - the scent was clean. The snow packed earth on the lone mountain top offering only the smell of tree bark and pine, damp earth, settled snow and frost cracked rock. Even the honest scent of small woodland creatures was absent, the mammals with sense bunkered down in warm burrows or tight crevices to escape the deathly chill of winter. For the wolf there was no such luxury.

Snow crunched under its paws, the harsh bite of frozen crystals sending bright sparks of pain in the travel worn pads, but with dogged determination, weary muscles pulled onwards - paws pressed down, before lifting forwards to repeat once again. One step at a time, fore paws then rear, breaking the trail and easing the way.

The oncoming wind brought the scent of fresh water, and with that came the much needed promise of rest and relief.

A sound from the rear broke the wolf's fixed determination. One ear already swivelling to hone in on the noise, it turned its sleek head, its unusually bright emerald eyes finding the second wolf behind it. The one that had crashed heavily to the unforgiving crystal hard ground.

The other was huge. A great muscled beast with enormous broad shoulders atop a deep chest. Sleek lines leading to a narrow waist and long lean muscled legs. The thick tail which normally stood proud, now curled tightly to its side. The limbs splayed in all directions, claws pressing into the ice as the creature lay in the scattered dirt and snow. Head fallen wearily to the ground - its jaws wide, tongue lolling as ragged breaths were pulled harshly through its fangs. The hot mist from its lungs steaming into the night before being swept away in the wind.

The shifting of the trees, momentarily allowed a gleam of moonlight to catch the broad face and sharp muzzle. The light picking out the slanted tawny green eyes encased in shaggy golden fur, but also illuminating the dark streaks of liquid that painted the beast's side.

Turning away from the trail it had been breaking, the first wolf worked back to the other and - standing protectively over it - surveyed the night. Back straight, bristled tail stood proud, strong legs held stiff, the wolf lifted its head, nose held high - searching for the scent of threat in the wind. Ears turning and ranging, seeking the disturbance of an intruder. Sharp green eyes resolutely pierced the gloom, and left no shadow unstudied.

When it was satisfied that no threat approached, it lowered it muzzle to the other. Warm air broke through the lance of icy wind as it huffed against its brother’s jaw - both taking-in the well known scent and offering back its familiar smell, the comfort of their joint presence. But the sharp tang of blood covered the musk of fur, and sour hints of exhaustion coloured the fallen wolf’s breath. A tiny whine crept from its throat as it nudged the other on the ground. Small licks to the face offered encouragement. Stronger pushes with the nose and the increasing pitch of its whine said: get up. And the other huffed a misty sigh from the bottom of its lungs, as weary eyes met green, but it slowly gathered its strength and heaved to its paws.

A brief wag of the tail and another lick of encouragement, and Green Eyes pressed its smaller frame into the other - supporting their weight as strength is gathered.

But the moment cannot continue over long. When a nudge of the shoulder doesn't get them moving, there comes a quiet growl and Green Eyes applies a gentle nip to the other’s ruff. Startled the wounded wolf puts one paw wearily forward, then follows with a second. Repeat, and repeat again, until the two press onwards as before.

And so they continue, through the bitter depths of the night. The head of the large wolf hangs low, and the other stays pressed against its side. As one pants and doggedly persists, the other lends support head held high, eyes endlessly, ceaselessly searching.

-

Much time has passed, but exactly how long is unknow, each second crystallised into nothing but dogged persistence. But at last the sound of rushing water breaks over the roaring wind. 

The large wolf gladly slumps at the water’s edge and wearily lowers its muzzle to the rejuvenating flow. Small but fast moving, the stream has not yet succumbed to the pale grip of ice. And once again, Green Eyes stands tall - ensuring the night is free from threat. Only then does it drop its head, and seek its own refreshment. Cold drops of water fly like scattered crystals as the life giving liquid eases over hot skin and scoures a clean path down the tired throat.

In moments the creature feels a fresh burst of energy. One more task - then they can rest.

-

Momentarily leaving its brothers side, the first wolf moved further along the frozen bank. It was searching. Yet every few steps it turned its head and looked back over its shoulder, checking for the other. Even when the eyes returned forward, one ear would flick back to ensure that no whines or growls broke the night.

Thankfully the search was not long. It found what it sought in the lewe of two large rocks, well above the waterline and sheltered in a thick mess of vegetation - a small den, clear of snow and sheltered from the wind - just large enough for two.

This time it took longer to rouse the larger wolf, but prompted by fierce growls and determined nips, it clambered to stand swaying on four paws before staggering upstream. And finally they came to a standstill before the small opening. And so the wolf with green eyes stood guard at the entrance, casting its senses one last time into the night. While the other hauled itself in and turned about in two stiff circles before settling down with a heavy groan.

The smaller wolf follows after, shuffling with concern - nose searching in thick fur for where the tang of blood is strongest. Broad swipes of a long warm tongue clean the wounds as best they can. And when it has done as much as it knows how to do, the wolf turns itself to lay curled about the other. For a moment it is tempted to raise its voice to the sky. To howl out over the wind that they yet live - though wounded they will not fall, they stand strong together in defiance of the night.

But the terrain is unknown and the territory not their own, and in the cold dark of the night, caution wins out over bold rebellion. So determination is held to the heart instead of howled to the sky, but it burns just as brightly nonetheless.

And as tawny green eyes close with a gentle huff of breath - sleep granting sweet relief, secure against the steady warmth of a brother’s side - the other set of green eyes remain open. Head propped atop of the broad slumbering shoulder, steadfastly watching the night, and the intense emerald stare shines with promise against the darkness.


End file.
